“Why would you send for him?” Orn could almost feel the disgust in his mother’s voice. “You know how he feels about me. About …”

“I know how unpleasant my cousin is.” His father’s words were soft, and Orn had to strain to hear. “I will be the first to admit Olrich is a failure as a person. But he is also a failure as a priest. Which is exactly why I asked him to come. He once drunkenly admitted to me, that unlike other priests, he cannot see the paths given. He must ask. “

“Really?!” Genuine excitement filled her voice, shocking Orn with the sudden change, “That is brilliant! All we have to do is tell Orn to pretend to be tired and we can coach him through it.”

“Thank you.” He could tell his father was smiling smugly, “I actually considered having Olrich do the ceremony before this to avoid the strain of a trip on Orn. With Orn in such a bad shape, I have an excuse to have the ceremony done here. I thought we could use the old shrine in the east wing.”

Almost as an afterthought he added, “That does mean we will have to put up with him for a week or two though…”

There was a pause as his mother seemed to be searching for words. “If it will keep Orn safe, I can suffer through Olrich.”

“We will send Olrich on his way, after the ceremony. That aside, I am sure Orn will get a warrior’s path.” There was a pause before his father continued, “He may be fragile, but he is undoubtedly tough and brave…”

“A bit too brave. Just look at the state he is in…” His mother replied her voice muffled.

“I know. I have seen men on the field collapse from lesser injuries. He was convinced he had to save us. I do not know many men who could bear to deliver a message like that.”

“I do,” His mother’s voice was suddenly clearer, “and the idiot is right in front of me. What was it? Both arms broken, most of your ribs, one leg completely shattered? You only made it into camp because you were tied to your horse. If I had not been taking a stroll that morning…”

“I would not have married the most beautiful healer.” His father soothed.

“Do not start with me. I just remembered who is to blame that our son is like this.” Orn could not see them, but he could tell his mother was giving a little.

Orn groaned inwardly, please flirt somewhere else. As if hearing his complaint, their voices slowly grew distant.

Orn quickly dismissed his father’s belief that he would be a prophet. From what he remembered; the goddess wanted him to forget. He doubted she would then give him the ability to see the future. Though having him die young was something she might not object to.

He repressed a shudder, as the memories of the goddess’s hand crushing him came rushing up. He forced the thoughts away and exhaustion overtook him, sending him back into a deep sleep.